


In The Mood for a Little Bit of G.I. Jive

by SpaceCaseWriter13



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s Steve Rogers, Everything is amazing and nothing hurts, Gen, Musical Guest Star, Star Spangled Man with a plan does not actually have a plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17992895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCaseWriter13/pseuds/SpaceCaseWriter13
Summary: While on tour in 1942 Steve Rogers makes an unexpected friend who gives him some encouraging advice. Otherwise known as that time that Steve ran into someone more famous than him and didn't know it and the Commandos Give him hell about it, in two acts.





	In The Mood for a Little Bit of G.I. Jive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tortoiseshells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoiseshells/gifts).



> I do not lay claim to the properties of Marvel used here or the historical figures featured. I do however love to imagine that Steve Rogers ran into people more famous than him and didn't know it. 
> 
> Been toying with this idea for a while now. It is certainly a change of pace from my normal fare, hope you all enjoy!

  

 

> "And now it's medley time. That means a serenade for the mothers, wives, and sweethearts of the officers and enlisted men at Tyndall Field. Here's something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.” 

 

**I. Serenade in Blue**

December 1942

Montgomery, AL, USA

Maxwell Air Force Base

 

It was raining. It had been raining for most of their southern tour. It was normal for winter down south is what he’d been told. Steve wondered how much snow had fallen in Brooklyn. He wondered if Bucky had sent a letter.

With the accelerated tour schedule he hadn’t been able to collect his personal mail in weeks. His fan mail Senator Brandt had forwarded, but Steve hadn’t trusted _anyone_ other than Becca Barnes to collect his personal mail. He’d sent a telegram last week to check up on her and the rest of the Barnes clan, but as of yet he hadn’t heard anything back. He hadn’t heard anything out of Bucky either since he’d shipped out, although Steve wasn’t entirely certain if that was totally a bad thing. It wasn’t like Steve wanted to be forthcoming about what he was up to. Never mind how Bucky would react when he found out that Steve was a glorified _chorus girl_. Steve was mortified at the very thought.

Bucky was over there laying down his life, while he paraded around in tights multiple times a week. Yes, it ultimately resulted in boosting bond sales and as Marty had told him bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazis, _Bing bang boom,_ but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t so much serving his country as being _used_. He hated that feeling, and it was only the constant reassurance that he was helping via bond sale that kept him from going out of his skull. Regardless of all that, this wasn’t how he’d imagined serving his country or more generally contributing to the war effort. At this rate, he’d almost prefer to be sitting in a factory and returning home to the drafty empty apartment every night. Anything would be better than _this._

He sighed, biting the end of his pencil eyes focused down on his sketchbook. 

Despite all that, he was _grateful_ to Senator Brandt. If not for him Steve would be in a lab somewhere being tested and poked and prodded, at least he was helping the war effort, doing something with the gift that Dr. Erskine had given him. It just felt hollow…empty…a pyrrhic victory at the very most. It wasn’t that _he_ thought he deserved better. It was that Dr. Erskine deserved better, better than Steve could produce at the moment.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t been sleeping well either. His brain was too loud. Thinking about Bucky. Thinking about their last conversation. Thinking about the day of the operation. Thinking about the day that Erskine was killed. Thinking. Thinking about how he could’ve stopped it all, could’ve changed the outcome.

He grimaced, leaning back against the wall. Only a few more weeks and he’d be back in New York before they headed on their overseas tour. _Maybe by then the Barnes family or I will have heard from Bucky._ That was an encouraging thought. _Perhaps I’ll get to see Bucky while I’m over on tour._ That was less encouraging. He was never going to live this down and would be forced to endure perpetual teasing from Bucky. _If Bucky’s not already—._ He wasn’t even going to think that. Wouldn’t will that into reality by letting the thought even cross his mind. 

He paused at the sound of footsteps overhead and the muffled voices that followed. The band must be getting ready to rehearse. Marty was probably looking for him. He was supposed to go to dinner with the Senator and Governor Dixon and Governor-elect Chauncey Sparks. Why exactly they wanted _him_ there and present, Steve didn’t know. Well, they didn’t want Steve Rogers at dinner they wanted _Captain America_.Which was why he was down here, under the stage, _hiding_ , trying to prolong the inevitable humiliation of the dog and pony show that was his life at the moment. 

 He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and scrabbled to his feet, collecting his sketchbook turned and stumbled headlong into a man carrying an instrument case and an armful of folders. 

The force of the impact sent both the folders and Steve’s sketchbook to the floor scattering everywhere, while the man Steve had collided with staggered backward. Steve lunged forward and grabbed the man’s shoulder before he could fall over, righting him with an easy and effortless motion.

“Well, that sure was a shock.” The man said setting down the instrument case, straightened his glasses and looked up at Steve, a smile turned up at the corner of the man’s mouth. Steve felt dread well in the pit of his stomach. _A fan._ “You must be the Captain I’ve been hearing so much about lately.”

The man was wearing an Air Force uniform, the three pips on his shoulders indicating that this man wasn’t just a soldier, he was an officer, a captain. _A Real Captain._ Steve couldn’t help but mentally add with palatable venom. “Yes, Sir.” Steve managed after a moment, though he could feel the tips of his ears go red. “I’m so sorry.” he stooped down and started collecting the sheet music that had scattered all over the floor and mixed with his drawings.

“I’m a fan of your work _Captain._ Let me help you with that.”

“No, sir. You really don’t have—”

But it was too late. The real captain was on his hands in knees beside Steve scooping up the loose-leaf.

Steve kept glancing at the man out of the corner of his eyes. He could’ve sworn he’d seen the man before, but he’d met so many people over the past months that everything was starting to blur together. When they’d gathered their respective papers they both rose, dusting off their knees.

“I’m sorry, but have we met before? You look really familiar.” Steve blurted out.

The Captain again cracked a small smile before answering.“We haven’t, sad to say. I did have the chance to catch your performance last night.” Again Steve could feel the tips of his ears go red. “It’s a fun little number, catchy. But more than that I do hear it’s doing wonders for bond sales.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed heavily, unable to stop himself. “I’ve heard that too.”

“Not a fan of show biz? Or not exactly how you thought you’d be serving?”

“No, sir. Not exactly.”

“I understand.” The man replied sympathetically. “This wasn’t exactly my first choice either, but you make due and do the best you can.” He paused, leaning in conspiratorially continued in a low voice, “And between you and me, you may not like show business, but show business likes you.’

“Sir?” Steve stammered as the captain resumed his previous distance and posture.

“People talk, son. Word gets around fast, particularly when people find out that you’re easy to work with, polite, respectful, it’s not something you come across as often as you’d like in the business.” He answered, riffling through the sheet music.

Steve blinked, trying to shake the feeling that he knew the man from somewhere. He cleared his throat before he continued, “I do my best. It’s just—” He cut himself off. He didn’t need to spill his guts to this total stranger, never mind one that outranked him, and who he’d very nearly mowed down.

“I have no doubt of that.” The man nodded, patting Steve on the shoulder. “We all find our own ways to serve our country, you just haven’t found yours yet. But don’t worry, I have no doubt that you’ll get there.” He stopped glancing around Steve down the long hallway. “In the meantime. I do believe your friend Marty is sending out a search party for you.” Panic must have set in on Steve’s features because the Captain motioned behind him with his head. “Down the hall, to the left, it’ll get you to the cargo bay, from there you can get to the street and be AWOL before they finish the first verse.”

“Thank you.” Steve breathed.

“Lovely to meet you. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” The Captain nodded, picking up his instrument case continued down the hall.

Steve charged down the hall past him, turned to the left, found the cargo bay, and was indeed AWOL before anyone could stop him, all the while he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met the man before. 

 

 ** II) American(ish) Patrol ** 

Summer, 1944

London, England

The Whip and Fiddle 

 

Steve hastened his pace, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked down the busy London streets. The evening air was muggy and sticky, but there was a cool breeze that certainly beat being indoors. He’d been stuck in meetings and briefing all day and was anxious to join his men, and Carter, at The Whip and Fiddle. It had been a while since they’d been given passes off the base, and he was glad they’d been able to enjoy as much of it as possible.

To be honest, when he’d dreamed of serving, he’d never imagined there would be this many meeting or this much paperwork. However, he could honestly say that this was an upgrade from the red white and blue tights and the crowded tour bus. He did miss the girls though. They’d been sweet and had helped him during the early days on tour. He still occasionally got letters from some of them. Mostly they wanted to know if he was all right, and how he was getting along, some indulged in gossip; otherwise, they asked for dating advice or advice about what to about their boyfriend or fiancée. That frequently ended Peggy and Bucky talking him down, before he could go and knock some heads together.

He didn’t _miss_ show business, but he was grateful for it. It had given him the tools necessary to nod and smile and say what the people in charge wanted to hear so that he and his guys could go back out and continue hunting down Hydra and the Skull. Though, he was fairly certain he’d rather deal with some of the drama from his chorus girl days than deal with the upper brass who could frankly be bigger primadonnas than all the ones he’d met on tour rolled together.

He rushed through the front door of the pub, and the bartender greeted him a nod, motioning to the table where the Commandos and Peggy were sitting and talking with...Steve stopped, blinking. No. It couldn’t be. The ghost of show business past, or something, come back to haunt him.

“Rogers, you managed to escape Philips after all!” Dugan announced, lifting his pint in greeting.

Everyone rose, and there was the general shuffle to add an additional chair at the already crowded table. 

“Captain.” Peggy touched his arm to grab his attention. “I’d like to introduce you to Major Glenn Miller.”

Steve’s mouth went dry. Glenn Miller. That Glenn Miller. Steve blinked, as he got a good look at the thin man with the wireframe glasses. It was the Captain he’d bumped into in the hallway backstage in Alabama, only the captain was now a Major. _I mowed Glenn Miller down backstage._ Steve’s stomach dropped at the realization. How on earth had he not recognized him? Everyone knew Miller had left his civilian band to join the Army and had been stationed out in…which would explain why the Captain, now Major, had been so amused when Steve asked if they’d met. _Oh, Steve you big idiot. How could you have NOT recognized Glenn Miller, of all people?_  

“Sir. It’s an honor.” Steve started to salute but was stopped as Major Miller stuck out his hand to shake it instead.

“No. None of that.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you again. Glad to see you got where you wanted to go, after all.” the Major glanced around. “I thought I’d join you and your men for a drink. Provided that’s all right with you, Captain.”

“Of course. It would be an honor.” Steve said, feeling slightly light-headed. How had he not recognized _Glenn Miller?_

“Steve. You know _Miller_ and didn’t tell me?” Bucky hissed as they all sat down, “Or did that slip your mind, too?”

“We ran into one another briefly while I was stationed in Alabama.” The Major said, omitting that Steve had run headlong into him in a frantic attempt to keep Marty from cornering him. “Although, I do have to ask Captain, did you succeed in your evasion of Mr. Sherman?”

“Temporarily. But thanks to you, I did get a good head start.” Steve answered.

“Glad to hear.” The Major turned to the rest of the table which was experiencing a rare moment of stunned silence, their jaws almost dropping to the table. “Now. What are you drinking? This round is on me.”

They sat and talked and drank. Steve mostly listened as Gabe and Mortia talked about African-Americans and Asians in the music industry with the Major. Bucky would interject occasionally asking specific, nearly esoteric musical questions. Although Bucky would never admit it, he was star struck. Bucky had taught Steve to dance to Moonlight Serenade and In the Mood, and had a near-encyclopedic knowledge of Miller’s pantheon of work. Steve, for his part, was a Benny Goodman fan, though now that he’d had a more personal experience with Miller might re-examine his own biases.

Midway through the night Gabe and Mortia joined by Dum Dum, and Falsworth had descended into an unruly argument over Ellington v.s. Basie v.s. Armstrong, while Bucky picked the Major’s brain about his more recent publications, namely the G.I Jive and Jukebox Saturday Night. This all came to an abrupt and sudden halt when a nondescript character came over and tapped the Major on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Miller nodded, and the man departed before he turned to the table who were watching with interest. “Afraid I have to leave you all. It’s been a pleasure, thank you for indulging me.” He said as he rose.

The table rose, each reaching out and shaking the Major’s hand. Glenn turned to Steve last. “It’s been a pleasure, thank you, Major," Steve said.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” The man replied before turning to the table. “Look after this one. Don’t let him get you all into too much trouble.” He grinned turning back to Steve. “And if there’s anything I can help you with, you know how people in our line of business like to talk.”

“Our line of business?” Steve echoed.

“We all serve our country in different ways, Captain, you know that.” Miller winked. “Evening all. Lovely to meet you.” And without another word he departed.

Steve sunk back down at the table in the man’s wake and exhaled, aware that all eyes were on him and he waited for the inevitable question.

“So. Anything else you wanna tell us, Rogers?” Dum Dum asked, before taking a long draw from his glass.

Steve glanced around at the expectant gazes of all accompanied. “I know Hedy Lamarr, we met while on tour selling bonds. She introduced me to Judy Garland and Lana Turner. But those are the _only_ other famous people I’ve met.” He said earnestly, before taking a sip of his drink.

The table erupted.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wrote this fic with the absolute knowledge and awareness of the parallels between Captain Steven Rogers and Major Glenn Miller. 
> 
> Major Glenn Miller disappeared December 15, 1944, when his plane went down somewhere between the UK and Paris. I'd like to think that he, like Cap', is out there somewhere waiting for the right time to return. In the meantime just imagine what Cap and the good Major would do if they met up in the 21st century.


End file.
